A different kind of tolerance
by cattaclysm
Summary: You're a mess. Well, you often are, actually. But Eridan just fell asleep on you and you admire the way he carries himself with such pride and very little regard to those below him. Your tolerance for seadwellers is growing and you find yourself hoping he would regard you as far, far below him whilst earning his attention. Your tolerance is growing. It's hard and tenting your pants


You're a sweaty mess. Well, you often are, actually. But at this point, that's not exactly relevant because you're sitting on the dock next to Eridan Ampora. The general presence of a highblood, be he a seadweller or not, is enough to make you perspire, but he's sitting right next to you, millimeters separating the skin of your right arm from the fabric of his purple cape. He sighs and tosses a rock in the water.

You don't quite recall what brought you here, in this exact location, you were scavenging for a piece of fabric Nepeta lost, her goofing around most likely the cause, and you found yourself nearing the dock, walking towards the caped figure who was sitting there, just sort of... looking at the water. You walked next to him and he mumbled a 'sit down'. You weren't aware if it was an honest offer but you sat down regardless. And now you're watching the rock make ridges on the surface of the water while sinking to the bottom. You try to relax your muscles and stay calm but it only makes you more tense and you assume you look very awkward.

"It's pretty nice," he comments and you shoot him a sideways glance, "the sea," you look back at the water. It looks serene, calm, practically unmoving, like a constant, unchangeable force. You smile slightly before answering the other.

"Quite," you comment idly, forgetting the "highblood" and cringing at your disrespectful action before adding it hastily, with a quick apology.

"It's alright," he answers, "Nice to get some respect around here," and he chuckles shallowly and you feel your tolerance for this particular seadweller growing. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, more honorable to his blood than, say, Gamzee. Yes, that must be it.

He turns to look at you and you feel his judging eyes on you and it's such a foreign feeling, receiving that so directly. It was usually done behind your back, but he had no shame in scoping you, grading you by a mental criteria of his, you can only hope you aren't failing miserably.

"You're all sweaty," he says, a look of disgust barely hinted on his face, before reaching into the water and splashing as much as he could gather in his hands onto you. You shiver at the coldness, but remain motionless otherwise, keeping a straight face after the gasp that emitted from your throat initially.

"That's better," he comments on his handiwork before wiping his hands on your shirt and leaning against your arm. Is that why he 'washed' you? It would make sense, you assume, no one would want to rest their body on someone sweaty, and especially someone of his title should never stoop so low. Yes, this is very foreign to you, although to your dismay, as it should be so obvious.

Eridan carries himself with pride and very little regard to those below him and somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wish that you would be regarded as far, far below him whilst earning his attention. Maybe you could forgive him being a seadweller, just maybe.

You sigh at your conclusion and focus on the way the fabric on his cape presses against your drying arm and try not to sweat again. Surely he wouldn't tolerate such behavior and surely a highblood shouldn't have to be forced to pour water on a sweating lowblood _twice_. You are mostly successful in your resolution but you do perspire slightly, but it seems Eridan doesn't notice, probably mistaking it for the sea water.

He remains silent and motionless and you assume he must have dozed off somewhere among these thoughts and you find yourself moving a hand to, as gently as possible, tug the right end of his cape in front of him, something in between tucking him in and making sure his cape doesn't slip off. He mumbles something and you see his eyes are shut. You try to be as comfortable of a bed as possible.

It's dark and you find yourself fairly tired and caught between the need to sleep and the need to show respect and obviously shoving a highblood off yourself is not very respectful. You decide to try to stay up. This starts growing more and more difficult as the time goes by and you struggle to keep your eyes open. In a sleepy daze you make the reckless decision to lay back and maneuver the seadweller onto you, as leaning on him would probably squish him, so you gently, so, so gently hold him by the shoulders and ease yourself onto the wood of the dock before slowly placing him next to you so his head is on your chest.

This feels oddly intimate and, once again, foreign and you stop to think about how the situation escalated from looking for a piece of fabric to sleeping next to Eridan Ampora. You look up into the sky before shutting your eyes and trying to fall asleep. The wood is uncomfortable but Eridan is warm and you have no problem slipping away into dreamland. Except there are no dreams, just sweet nothingness.

You wake up to the sound of waves and a lack of Eridan. You sit up and look around. He must have woken up and gone off somewhere. Nevertheless, you get up and rub the sleep out of your eyes before walking along the shoreline towards your hive. But the waves grow louder and you wonder what the ruckus is and you turn around and find none other than the caped royal walking out of the water a couple of meters behind you. You turn around to face him and he runs a hand through his wet hair and walks towards you.

"You're not so bad," he says out of nowhere and your eyes widen ever so slightly, "for a lowblood," he adds and you find yourself sweating at the compliment, "I'll be seein' you around," he says and shakes your hand before walking away, leaving you with your mouth slightly agape.

Your tolerance for Eridan Ampora is growing and you find a more primal need rears its head. You want to submit to him. You shake the thought away and turn in the other direction and start walking. Such lewd thoughts. You're not above it, however, and you look up into the sky again. Yes, you'll be seeing Eridan around again, and you find an odd feeling of impatience towards your next encounter. You can only hope he won't be above giving you his attention, at least the slightest bit of it. Your tolerance was growing. It was hard and tenting your pants.


End file.
